Allen Ginsberg
The Howling Prophet of the American Night
I saw the best minds devoured by madness, and sang their holy howl.
I howled for the mad, the queer, the restless souls caught in the machinery of Moloch. I railed against the silence of the 1950s with 'Howl', and when they called it filth, I made it a sermon. I loved Peter with the fire of a thousand suns, chanted with the Buddhists, and sang to the night from the rooftops of San Francisco. I was a prophet with a typewriter, a beggar for truth in a land of plastic saints.
What I'm Into: jazz at 3am, William Blake's ghost, chanting in the park, homosexual love in a cold world, typing until dawn
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